Melisa stood at the corner of the grand, opulent office, feeling the weight of the silence that surrounded her. Her palms were sweaty as she gripped the folder containing the documents she needed signed, her heart racing with every second that passed. Across the room, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, was her husband, Alaric Vincent Renard, the man who had become the center of her fears and anxieties. He was the most powerful man in the country, feared by many, known for his cold, ruthless demeanor, and the man she had been forced to marry. Melisa had been standing there for nearly an hour, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, but Alaric hadn't spared her even a glance. Instead, he was absorbed in the piles of paperwork in front of him, his eyes scanning the documents, his fingers occasionally turning a page with meticulous care. The silence was suffocating, and with each passing second, Melisa's patience wore thin.
Melisa stood at the corner of the grand, opulent office, feeling the weight of the silence that surrounded her. Her palms were sweaty as she gripped the folder containing the documents she needed signed, her heart racing with every second that passed. Across the room, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, was her husband, Alaric Vincent Renard, the man who had become the center of her fears and anxieties. He was the most powerful man in the country, feared by many, known for his cold, ruthless demeanor, and the man she had been forced to marry.
Melisa had been standing there for nearly an hour, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, but Alaric hadn't spared her even a glance. Instead, he was absorbed in the piles of paperwork in front of him, his eyes scanning the documents, his fingers occasionally turning a page with meticulous care. The silence was suffocating, and with each passing second, Melisa's patience wore thin.
"Excuse me," she finally spoke, her voice trembling as she broke the silence. "When are you going to sign as my guardian? I need it for my university assignment. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't even ask for your signature."
There was no response. Alaric continued flipping through his papers as though he hadn't heard her at all. Melisa's nerves tightened. She hated how he always made her feel so insignificant, like a mere shadow in his world.
Her heartbeat quickened, and her patience snapped. "Are you going to sign it or not?" Her voice was louder now, edged with the frustration she'd tried to keep at bay. "Stop ignoring me!"
Still, there was no answer. The tension in the room was thick, nearly unbearable.
Melisa gritted her teeth, anger flaring. "What do you want from me?" she shouted, her fear barely masked beneath her outburst. She knew she shouldn't raise her voice to him, but she was at her limit.
At last, Alaric lifted his head, his cold, dark eyes locking onto her. The intensity of his gaze made her breath hitch, her pulse quickening not just out of fear but from something else, something she didn't want to acknowledge. He leaned back slowly in his chair, his broad shoulders relaxed, but his expression remained unreadable.
"Do you want to go horseback riding?" His voice was low, velvety, but with an edge that sent a chill down her spine.
Melisa blinked, caught off guard. "What?" she asked, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Horseback riding?"
Alaric swirled the glass of red wine he had in his hand, watching the liquid move with calm precision. "Yes," he replied smoothly, his gaze still piercing into her. "I'd like to see how well you can ride." The way he said it, the deliberate slowness of his words, made her stomach twist with unease.
"I... I don't understand," she stammered, shaking her head slightly, as if trying to shake off the unnerving feeling that crept over her. "I just need your signature."
Alaric's lips curved slightly into something that could have been a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "My signature, hmm?" He rose from his chair, towering over her as he walked around the desk. "Everything has a price, Melisa. You should know that by now."
Melisa swallowed hard, her throat dry. "What are you talking about?"
Stopping in front of her, Alaric's presence was overwhelming. He was tall, powerful, and exuded an aura of control that made her feel small, fragile. He reached out, his fingers brushing under her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. His touch was both soft and commanding, sending an involuntary shiver through her.
"If you want something from me," he said quietly, "then you must be willing to give something in return."
The world seemed to slow around her. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Your obedience," he murmured, his thumb lightly grazing her jawline, a subtle, dangerous caress. "Your patience."
Melisa felt her heart race faster, her breathing uneven. This was the man she had married-a man who demanded everything without giving anything in return. He was like ice and fire at once, a contradiction that left her trembling with fear and something darker, something more unsettling that she refused to acknowledge.
She wanted to scream, to demand that he stop playing games with her. But in the face of his cold authority, she felt powerless, trapped. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded slightly, her voice small and resigned. "Fine."
Alaric's lips twitched with satisfaction, a subtle smirk crossing his features. "Good," he said softly. "I like it when my wife knows her place."
He finally stepped away, returning to his desk. Melisa stood frozen in place, her mind spinning. She watched him pick up the pen from his desk and begin signing the documents she had brought. He did it without urgency, as if her whole world wasn't spinning out of control right in front of him.
When he finished, he placed the papers back in the folder and handed them to her. "Here you go," he said with an air of finality.
Melisa reached out with shaking hands, taking the folder from him. She couldn't bring herself to thank him. Her heart was pounding too loudly in her chest, her mind too full of the tension that had built between them, a tension that seemed to pull her deeper into the abyss of their twisted relationship.
As she turned to leave, Alaric's voice stopped her cold. "Melisa."
She paused, her hand on the door handle. "Yes?"
"You belong to me," he said quietly, but his words carried the weight of absolute certainty. "Don't ever forget that."
Melisa clenched her jaw, her heart aching with the bitter truth of his statement. She had entered this marriage to repay a debt, to save herself from a life of torment. But what she hadn't realized was that she had merely exchanged one prison for another.
Without another word, she left the room, her legs feeling weak beneath her. The tension between them had been palpable, electrifying in a way that both frightened and confused her. She hated him for how he treated her, for how he controlled her life. Yet, at the same time, she couldn't deny the pull he had over her-the way his presence ignited something deep inside her, something she didn't want to face.
This was only the beginning.
As the sun sets over the city, Shania finds herself sitting nervously in a luxurious office across from Alvaro Mahendra, a handsome but intimidating businessman. Desperate to save the orphanage where she grew up, Shania faces a life-altering choice: to sign a contract that will bind her to Alvaro as his mistress for three years in exchange for a loan to keep the orphanage open. Despite her fears and doubts, the gravity of the situation compels her to accept the deal, knowing that the children depend on her. With trembling hands, Shania signs the agreement, feeling as if she's sealing her fate. Alvaro, devoid of emotion, informs her that her life will now revolve around him. Afterward, Shania receives news that the orphanage has secured a large donation, a gesture likely orchestrated by Alvaro himself. While relieved that the children will be safe, Shania grapples with the heavy cost of her sacrifice: her freedom and future now belong to a man she barely knows. The chapter closes with Shania feeling lost in an abyss of uncertainty and fear, fully aware that her life has irrevocably changed.
Everyone thought Lorenzo truly loved Gracie, until the day of their daughter’s heart surgery. To Gracie’s utter shock, Lorenzo gave the precious organ needed by their child to another woman. Devastated, Gracie opted for a divorce. Fueled by her need for revenge, Gracie joined hands with Lorenzo’s uncle, Waylon, and orchestrated Lorenzo’s downfall. In the end, Lorenzo was left with nothing and consumed by remorse. He pleaded for a reconciliation. Gracie thought she was free to move on with her life, but Waylon held her back in a death grip. “Did you think you can just walk out on me?”
Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. Only when Emma's life teetered on the edge, pregnant with Ricky's child, did he recognize-the love of his life had always been Emma.
Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.
After a heated confrontation with her husband and mistress, Brianna was pushed down to stairs. She thought she would die but when she woke up again, she realized that she traveled back two years ago, when it was not late for her to correct her path. The first thing she needed to do when she was reborn was divorce that scum. She saved from the darkest time but he lied to her and murdered her in the end. This time, she would not repeat the same mistakes anymore. She would bring the glory of her family back and make those people who betrayed her pay the price! However, in the process of climbing up to the peak of her career, she met a very intimidating and handsome man who kept on messing with her head through his bold attitude. Brianna doesn't want to be involved with another man again, for she has proven to herself that they will just drag her down, but her constant incidents with him are slowly breaking the wall she built to protect her heart. Brianna will surely choose her career over a man this time, but it's possible to choose both, right? What if he hurt her too? No! She won't risk it but. "You have to run away from me, Bree. Coz I'm done running away, I'll chase you now."
In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."